


7sinsvirtuesFenArt

by hazelnutbrew



Series: Livejournal Writing Prompts Collection [2]
Category: Disgaea 4: A Promise Unforgotten
Genre: Afterlife, Angel Sex, Angel Wings, Bisexual, Bisexual Male Character, Challenges, Demon, Demon Sex, F/M, Forbidden Romance, Hate Sex, Het, Livejournal Prompts, Looking for beta reader, Love/Hate, Romance, Seven Deadly Sins, Sex, Shipping, Unrequited Love, Werewolf, themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 13:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelnutbrew/pseuds/hazelnutbrew
Summary: Ever since Artina came to the Netherworld, a world of vices and sin, she found herself drawn into the temptations that it offered. No would have suspected that the pure, angelic Artina would find an appetite for something that was like money and power all rolled into one.





	1. Chapter 1

1\. Gluttony  
Ever since Artina came to the Netherworld, a world of vices and sin, she found herself drawn into the temptations that it offered. No would have suspected that the pure, angelic Artina would find an appetite for something that was like money and power all rolled into one. Saints and sinners, she couldn’t get enough of it, which surely was one of the many sins that she committed while remaining in the Netherworld. Maybe it was the influence of demons or maybe it was because Artina was looking for a change, some thrills that were so rampant in the Netherworld that Celestia sorely lacked. Celestia was all about chastity and innocence; an angel had to be a maiden of purity, a heart that was not swayed by temptation or vice. Artina didn’t care if she became a Fallen Angel at this point. She came to the point where she was just falling, falling, down into the nine concentric circles of hell that the poet Dante traversed.

His every touch sent shivers down her spine, his kisses left bruises on her skin, and the feeling of Fenrich inside her seared every cell in Artina’s body. Her back arched as she spread her legs to allow Fenrich deeper inside; she can feel her walls clenching around his shaft with tight friction. On this decadent night, demon and angel performed a ritual of intense heat, breathless pants, and unholy lust. Artina didn’t know how it came to this; Fenrich and Artina absolutely loathed one another. In public, they hurled insults at one another, exchanged derisive glances and everything else except hitting one another. But when the bedroom doors were closed, they bit one another, pulled each other’s hair, raked their nails over every trace of their bodies.

Down, down, they descended, deeper into the labyrinth of sins until they couldn’t claw their way back out.


	2. Chapter 2

2\. Envy  
“Sir Werewolf…” Artina said, lacing her hands behind her back. She took a deep breath, before continuing on. “I must thank you for taking care of Valvatorez for me.”

Fenrich gave a disdainful snort, not even bothering to glance towards Artina’s direction. Every hair on his body seemed to bristle from Artina’s very presence in the room. “There’s nothing to thank me for. I do everything for my lord. I serve him his favorite dish, sardines, every day. I straighten his cape and collar, I keep records of the daily happenings within Hades, I make sure that his coffin is well-prepared when my Master retires for the night, I make sure that his fangs aren’t chipped and his teeth are pristine. Granted, there’s nothing to thank you for. The only thing that my Master thanks you for is developing an unusual taste for sardines, which isn’t the proper nutrition for a vampire such as himself. However, that is to exemplify my Master’s virtue of making a positive out of any situation, no matter how appallingly pitiful it may be. Now let me ask you this. How do you have the gall to come here and say something like that with a straight face? You are just the absolute epitome of virtue and purity, aren’t you, pretending that you actually care for my Lord and by thinking that saying such fruitless words could undo that damage that you have done. How do you explain yourself?”

His words were like a slap to the face. Here Artina tried to be nice to the werewolf steward, who had been nothing but abrasive to her throughout their journey together. Everyone else seemed to have accepted Artina into the group, all except Fenrich, who insisted that Artina was nothing but a hypocrite, a mere obstacle in terms of Valvatorez achieving his goals. Artina felt the stirrings of anger within her, though Artina decided that she wouldn’t let go of her dignity by returning harsh words back to Fenrich. She will keep her calm; she won’t allow Fenrich to get the best of her. “I see your point, Mister Werewolf. You may see me as a villain or the horrid seductress who stole away your vampire, if that would help put your mind at ease. However, I am truly sorry for what happened to Mister Vampire. It was not my intent to make him keep a promise that would inconvenience him so. I only wish to set things right and smooth the tension between us.”

Fenrich merely gave a humorless chuckle at Artina’s words. He finally turned to face Artina, and the angel could see a glint of fang in his smile. “I’m sorry, did you just say inconvenience? How about irreparably destroyed? You made him keep a promise that he had no choice but to fulfill by abstaining from human blood. You made him keep this promise for 400 years, while you simply went and got killed by bleeding heart altruism. If you helped out an enemy of your country in a time of war, not only are you a hypocrite, but you are also a fool. Or did you think that you would be automatically rewarded by getting a free pass into Celestia?”

Artina straightened, her back stiff and her face flushed. She told herself she wouldn’t raise her voice, that she wouldn’t indulge in this silly little game with Mister Werewolf, but it was becoming tempting to lash out and point out his shortcomings and flaws. “You tried to manipulate Valvatorez by pretending that you were dying, all so that you could get him to drink human blood.”

“The ends justify the means,” Fenrich said, putting a gloved hand against his chest. “All is for my Lord. And need I remind you that you were the cause of everything that happened? All because of some silly promise.”

A sad cast overcame Artina’s features. She turned away from the werewolf and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “I know. It was my fault that I made him make that promise, especially since Sir Vampire always took promises so seriously…”

“Then we’ve finally come to an understanding. You were nothing but an inconvenience from the start.”

Artina remained silent for a moment, before she said softly. “You know…I always envied how close you were to Sir Vampire. You did everything for him that I couldn’t. So I guess…”

Fenrich put a hand on Artina’s shoulder, turning her to face him. He then leaned forward to capture her lips within his own. Artina’s eyes widened, though she eventually submitted to the forceful kiss. There was an incessant hunger to that kiss, a raw passion that Artina never had been exposed to before. Her pale skin began to flush and heat seared through her body. A dizzying rush of lust washed over her as she returned the kiss that Fenrich took for himself.

Fenrich pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His golden eyes stared at Artina, seeming to strip her naked, making her feel vulnerable and exposed. Artina put a hand to her lips, still disbelieving that her first kiss was taken away from Fenrich, of all people. “W-Why? Why’d you kiss me if you hate me so much?”

“My Master’s first kiss belongs to me. Do you understand?” Fenrich said, his voice a little husky. “You will not speak of this to anyone. Not even Lord Valvatorez. If you so much as breathe a word about this, I will strip your tongue from your mouth and ruin your vocal chords.”

“Y-Yes,” Artina said, putting her hands behind her back and nodding. “I understand.”

“Good.”

The werewolf then departed from the room. Artina still lingered inside, replaying the moment over in her head. His lips felt warm…and Saints and Sinners, she actually enjoyed it. She licked her lips nervously, before whispering, “Even if you hate me…I don’t hate you…”


	3. Chapter 3

3\. Sloth  
They say that idleness was a sin. Those who did not work only lay in the wallows of their sloth, falling into poverty, wasting whatever talents they had in indolence, or leaving their mind to vegetate. At least, that was what Artina believed. Slothfulness could also mean spiritual or emotional apathy. All through her life, Artina believed herself to be a spiritual person, devotedly sending prayers to God each and every day. She still prayed to God, like she always did. Before, Artina was able to hear His voice, but as of late, she was unable to hear so much as a whisper.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she hear the voice of God anymore? Did she unknowingly commit a sin? Artina didn’t know. She prayed every day like she normally would, trying to seek the answer, but the voice that would speak during her prayers remained silent. Artina felt alone…she could no longer hear the voice that provided her comfort and guidance. Artina didn’t explain her troubles to anybody. She simply smiled and pretended that nothing was wrong, even though her soul was deeply troubled. Everyone seemed to be fooled by her façade.

Everyone except Fenrich.

His eyes would watch her, and Artina would always find his gaze disconcerting. Artina thought that she hid her inner turmoil well; how was it that Fenrich was able to see through her eye so easily? Was it because that Fenrich was so good at lying that he could detect other people’s lies, or was Fenrich actually secretly watching her all this time? It almost seemed laughable at the last part, but then Artina supposed that Fenrich was studying her, making note of every manner and gesture and word that she did and said. He was protective of Lord Valvatorez; it was his role as the vampire’s steward, after all, to make sure that no harm came to pass upon him. However, despite what Fenrich might think, Artina wasn’t trying to seduce Valvatorez or manipulate him like Fenrich was so keen to believe. Then again, Fenrich, as a magnificent liar, must second-guess every person’s true intentions, to see whether their words resonated with truth or lies. It must’ve become second nature to him.

Artina supposed that she would have to confront him about it sooner or later. Fenrich had a habit of pulling her aside and making sure that she remembered she was the cause of everything that Valvatorez had to go through. He even called her a hypocrite, once, and Artina began to think that maybe Fenrich was right. Was everything that she did really all her fault? If she hadn’t died, if she hadn’t made Valvatorez make a promise that she originally took lightly, how would things have turned out different?

“Sir Werewolf,” Artina said, clasping her hands behind her back as she managed to corner Fenrich. “I sense that there is something that you wish to speak with me about.”

Fenrich grunted. “You’ve only become more irritating as time passes on. I’ve seen you sulking while you thought no one was looking.”

Artina’s wings stiffened, before she primly folded them behind her back. “And why should that matter to you? You wouldn’t begin to understand.”

“No. And I don’t care to,” Fenrich said as he began preening his nails. “However, your emotional whims create a depressing aura that is irritating at best and downright suffocating at worst. I shall not have Lord Valvatorez be exposed to such negative influences.”

“Well,” Artina said, folding her hands in front of her. “If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else? Not even Sir Vampire?”

Fenrich snorted. “Do as you please.”

Artina took a deep breath, before she turned around and looked out a window. “I’ve always been a religious woman. I read the scriptures and the Holy Book, and I would say my prayers every day. But lately…I…can no longer hear the voice of God.”

“You can’t rely on God all the time,” Fenrich said. “You have to rely on yourself. Is that really all that’s been bothering you?”

Artina clenched her folded hands tighter. “No. I’ve been thinking about what you said…and I think that you’re right. I was a hypocrite all this time. I caused so much trouble for everybody…how can I be forgiven?”

Fenrich rolled his eyes, though he seemed to be considering her answer for a moment. “We’re fallible beings. There is no such thing as a truly good person; everyone has their sins. That is why, day by day, we struggle through life and try to become a little better each time. That is all.”

Artina held one hand to her chest, before a soft smile touched her lips. “I suppose you may be right, Sir Werewolf.”

Fenrich snorted again. “Just stay out of the way of my lord’s plans. You have already been enough of a hindrance.”

Artina simply smiled…before she fluttered her wings a bit, hovering slightly above the ground, and planted a soft kiss on Fenrich’s cheek. “Think of it as a token of appreciation. Free of charge.”

“Tch. I didn’t even ask for such a thing,” Fenrich said. However, Artina noted that Fenrich still had his fingers lightly pressed against his cheek when he thought Artina was out of view.


	4. Chapter 4

4\. Lust  
This was wrong. Artina knew that she shouldn’t be doing this, that something like this was reckless, and if she were exposed, then it would ruin her reputation. Pure Artina, the pious young nurse who mended the wounded on the battlefield, the angel who was supposed to follow the seven virtues of heaven, one of which included chastity, was doing things that would make the singing chorus of angels in Celestia pale. No, she couldn’t let anybody else know about this, or else Celestia would go to hell in a hand basket and the Netherworld would freeze over. The angels would be scandalized while the demons would shun and avoid her. 

Yet here was Artina, her braid undone and her dress top pulled down. She let out a sigh as her secret lover nipped at her collarbone, leaving a teasing trail of kisses down her neck and kissing dangerously close to her breasts. Artina wanted more, she needed this. To hell with chastity, damn the moral principles of Celestia, this felt good. She hitched the skirt of her dress higher as her lover grinded against her, hands roaming through her long tresses of pink hair. When he sucked on the sensitive area of the pillar of her neck, Artina let out a sigh, trying to catch her breath from the affections she received.

“Please…” Artina said, a shiver running through her spine as her lover continued suckling on her neck. “I need…”

“Shut up,” her lover said in a rough voice, before he pulled down the top of her dress with almost prissy delicateness. He eyed her for a moment, his expression unreadable. The werewolf steward of Valvatorez had a formidable poker face that hid his true intentions. It was a necessity for someone who can spin elaborate lies with a silver tongue and manipulate the truth so that it can turn in his favor. His tongue then thrust between her teeth, and Artina simply submitted against him.

They’ve been meeting one another every night, in the ungodly hours of darkness, and they would do these things. It hasn’t progressed further than kissing and grinding, though Artina ached for more of this carnal satisfaction. Yet Fenrich would restrain himself, leaving Artina on close to the edge of a gasping climax, before he would simply leave her panting and frustrated. Artina felt herself on the brink--saints and sinners, she couldn’t handle another half-finished session, leaving her helpless with need.

“Fenrich…” Artina said, before her hands wandered down to his hips and started to fumble with his pants.

Fenrich immediately stopped what he was doing and fixed Artina with a piercing glare. “Don’t. Or else this stops now.”

Artina crossed her arms over her exposed chest, her cheeks puffed in irritation. “When are you going to, Fenrich? You do this every single time, and I’m starting to grow tired of it.”

“I thought we both agreed that this was experimentation. Don’t tell me that you believed that there was something more. We both want someone else. You’re probably imagining that I’m him right now, aren’t you?”

Artina flushed, before she hastily redid her dress, covering her chest and pulling her skirt down. She turned her back on Fenrich, hastily redoing her braid. “Fine, then. You can satisfy yourself in solitude. Don’t expect anything more from me from now on.”

Fenrich simply sighed with exaggerated patience. He probably thought Artina was being a frigid bitch right now, but Artina simply didn’t care right now. She finished plaiting her hair together, and she eventually re-attached her hair tassels to her long strands of hair. Artina could feel Fenrich’s gaze boring into her back. “Don’t flatter yourself, Thief Angel. As I thought, someone like you isn’t enough to satisfy my Lord.”

The werewolf steward then turned and left the room, leaving Artina alone. Artina glared in Fenrich’s direction, wanting to hurl out insults or throw something at him, but she eventually relented and sank down onto the bed. She then dipped her hand between her legs to finish what Fenrich started.


	5. Chapter 5

5\. Greed  
Artina never cared for the title Angel of Avarice. As an angel, she was supposed to uphold the Heavenly Virtues that were part of Celestia’s society. Avarice, or greed, meant an insatiable desire for wealth or gain. She only collected HL from the Netherworld for the sake of Flonne’s mission which, in the end, turned out to be crafting a giant mecha Flonne. It was rather silly, but then Flonne was prone to fanciful whims, preaching about love and justice, along with a fanatical passion for all things superheroes and justice. Ah, but describing Flonne as fanatical was rather unfair; Flonne was simply very devoted to things that she believed in, and diligence could also be considered one of the Contrary Virtues that were preached in Celestia. Yes, Flonne did have some eccentricities in comparison to the oftentimes uptight uppercrust of Celestial Society, but her heart was the purest among even the most devoted of angels.

Even after they saved the moon from falling, thanks to Mecha Flonne, Artina was still called the nickname Thief Angel. Her Sir Vampire, a demon of most impressionable honor and noble principles, even remarked that she had a certain glint in her eyes whenever the matter of money was concerned. He even called her a ‘moneygrubbing woman’, despite Artina’s insistence that she was only doing it for a mission. Even though Valvatorez seemed to have forgiven her for making him keep a promise that eventually led to his fall to Hades, his werewolf steward, Fenrich, had called her a hypocrite.

Fenrich’s words had stung Artina. It wasn’t just because Fenrich had a rapier-sharp wit and an effective means of verbally eviscerating anyone of his choosing, but it was the fact that maybe the werewolf was right. Was Artina really exempt from hypocrisy or sin due to the virtue of being an angel? As a human, Artina lived a pious life. She was a nurse on the battlefield, taking care of wounded soldiers who fought in the war that her country was caught up in. Artina held no attachment to earthly possessions or materials. She had been the definition of frugal, honest, compassionate, prudent, and chaste.

After living by these principles, Artina became an angel. Yet Valvatorez didn’t seem to recognize her when they crossed paths in the Netherworld. Was it because that she changed so much, or was it because 400 years truly had been a long time, even for a demon? Maybe Artina really wasn’t that important to Mister Vampire. The only thing that Valvatorez could thank her for was for discovering sardines while being confined in Hades. No…the person who had been by Valvatorez’s side all this time was Fenrich, the werewolf steward who tended to Valvatorez’s every need, who doted upon him, at times, and demonstrated unwavering loyalty that would have made the greatest of Saints pale. 

With someone like that by Valvatorez’s side, Artina had no right calling him ‘My vampire’. Sometimes Artina envied the closeness Valvatorez and Fenrich shared. But Artina knew that Fenrich was the right person for Valvatorez, the person who took care of Valvatorez when Artina disappeared for 400 years. Maybe Artina’s sin wasn’t an insatiable appetite for money, but for longing for something that she couldn’t have.


	6. Chapter 6

6\. Wrath  
A growl hovered in Fenrich’s throat, the vibrations so low that it was barely perceptible to human ears. Even if the others couldn’t hear Fenrich’s irritated growl, something in his expression must have told them to keep away from Fenrich. They did not want to invite the wrath of a werewolf whose outline trembled with barely suppressed anger. Fenrich wanted to tear entire rooms apart or howl at the moon like a man gone insane. The Prinnies seemed to sense Fenrich’s storm signals, so they made themselves scarce from his presence, which was just as well, since Fenrich had no patience for dealing with the fallen souls of human peons.

“My, my, Sir Werewolf, whatever has you all out of sorts?” a saccharine voice said.

Fenrich’s golden gaze flicked towards Artina, who currently had her plaited pink hair across her shoulder and hovered teasingly above Fenrich, out of reach from his claws and fangs. His growl only deepened, causing a frown to appear on the angel’s face. She then hovered a little closer to him, so that her face hovered near his, putting a finger her lip while she was musing about Fenrich’s current situation. Fenrich managed to stop growling for a few seconds to say, “I’m in no mood, Thief Angel. Spare me from your presence, which I find absolutely abominable.”

Artina settled gracefully onto the ground, folding her wings behind her while lacing her hands behind her back. She tilted her head to the side, a bit, before she said, “Sir Werewolf, I’m only expressing concern for your well-being.”

“It’s none of your concern. Leave from my presence. The very sight of you offends me.”

“I will do no such thing. Now stop sulking like a child and let me help you.”

Fenrich growled under his breath, though he relented when Artina hovered behind him. He felt her long fingers teasing out the tangles from his hair, and as much as hated to admit it, it felt…nice. Fenrich closed her eyes while Artina continued brushing his hair, allowing the silver strands to weave through her skillful fingers. Her movements were so deft and nimble that Fenrich didn’t realize that Artina began plaiting his hair. When Artina’s fingers stopped running through his hair, Fenrich restrained a sigh of disappointment. 

Somehow the anger from earlier dissipated, all from the soft touch of Artina’s fingers. It was fitting for someone with such gentle hands to tend to the wounded and sick as a nurse. “You will tell no one of this, understand?”

“I understand perfectly, Sir Werewolf~” Artina said, curtseying by lifting the sides of her scandalously short dress, before flying off.

Fenrich then wandered down a corridor. He passed a couple of Prinnies, who did a double-take and gaped at Fenrich. “M-Master Fenrich? I totally thought you looked like a girl from behind, dood!”

The sound of an explosion erupting within the castle walls resounded from every wall, floor, and ceiling, along with the sound of Fenrich’s cursing that damnable Thief Angel’s name.


	7. Chapter 7

7\. Pride  
Fenrich was in a dilemma. He racked his brain for all possible solutions, though he couldn’t come up with a single answer. He hated being in this kind of situation, and he almost certainly would not ask for anyone’s help. Not Lord Valvatorez, not the lass, the whelp…and certainly not that damnable Thief Angel. Fenrich would loathe the day when he was in Artina’s debt, especially since she would charge him a ridiculous amount of HL for her services. No, Fenrich would find the answer to this eventually. He simply hadn’t thought of all the possibilities yet. 

Yet still, no matter how long he racked his brains for a simple solution, none would come to him. Fenrich wanted to howl at the moon in frustration--oh bloody moon, has his precious moon forsaken him? He needed to come up with an answer, anything, but after days of not thinking of a solution, Fenrich was in a slump. The werewolf was a brilliant strategist who could plan several moves ahead of his opponents, but when it came to the matters of the heart, Fenrich was hopelessly lost. But no way would he admit this, his pride wouldn’t let him show this weakness. Besides that, demons weren’t supposed to love, were they?

“There’s something wrong with me,” he growled to himself while he stalked Hades, fur bristling on end. 

“I thought there was something going on,” a sweet voice said from behind him, to which Fenrich turned around and snarled at none other than the Thief Angel herself. “You seemed more irritable than usual, that is.”

“I’m not here to entertain you or enlighten you, Thief Angel,” Fenrich said as his fur matted down and he put a hand against his chest, trying to calm his breathing. “You are nothing more than an inconvenience to the grand scheme that Lord Valvatorez has in mind to seize power once again throughout Hades.”

“My, my, such cold words to someone who fought alongside you with Fear the Great and everything. I would’ve thought that, perhaps, we could’ve been friends after going through such an ordeal. Though I suppose that is not the case, and you would rather keep me at arm’s length, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re damn right,” Fenrich said to Artina while he narrowed his golden eyes at her. “I don’t wish to associate with a harlot that led my Lord astray from his path.”

Artina simply smiled at Fenrich, and Fenrich wanted nothing more than wipe that self-righteous smile off her damned face. Everything about the Thief Angel infuriated him, and there was no way that he would be friends with Artina even if she fought against Nemo with the rest of the group. No, that was impossible. Friendship with such a woman would only lead to more distractions, to lead them both astray from their original goals. They did say that women were tempters, after all, and Fenrich didn’t want Valvatorez to become distracted from his goal. He didn’t want to be deterred from the grand plans that he carefully schemed for Valvatorez’s reign of power once more.

“Mayhaps, Sir Werewolf, I could help you with your dilemma,” The Thief Angel said with a sly look on her face, to which Fenrich froze.

“What are you talking about, you delusional woman,” Fenrich said, though inside, his heart was thumping inside his chest.

“You could ask for help every once in a while, you know,” Artina said as she hovered over to Fenrich and leaned forward in such a way that her generous breasts were on display in front of Fenrich’s eyes.

“Wh…What are you doing, Thief Angel? I have no interest in playing games with you.”

“The affairs of the heart are never a game, Sir Werewolf,” Artina said, before she flipped her braid over her shoulder and started to play with it. “Love is war, after all.”

“That doesn’t sound like something an angel would say.”

“Remember, Fenrich. If you don’t solve your dilemma soon, I might have to take Valvatorez for myself. But…but. I can be reasonable. We can work out a compromise, somehow.”

“Never,” Fenrich said with a growl, clenching his hands into fists.

“Fine then,” Artina said, before she fluttered off daintily. “All’s fair in love and war.”

“Wait.”

Artina then paused, turning around to face Fenrich. “Yes?”

“These…affairs of the heart, as you call it. Demons aren’t supposed to…” he couldn’t quite get the word out from his lips, that’s how vile he considered the word in consideration of all the things that he stood for.

“Everyone can love,” Artina said very patiently, before she kissed Fenrich on the forehead. “Even demons. Well, Sir Werewolf, I shall be off, and I think that you should consider what I have said.”

Artina took off, leaving Fenrich wondering to ponder over his choices. Affairs of the heart, was it? Could he really…perhaps…was he? Fenrich shook himself, before cursing himself for showing weakness in front of the Thief Angel. No, he wasn’t going to turn into some romantic sap that spouted nonsensical words of sweet nothings to the object of his affection--that seemed like a dangerously vulnerable relationship to be in. It would hurt Fenrich’s pride, after all, if he ever admitted that he was in love with Artina rather than his beloved Valvatorez.


End file.
